too much.
you’re saying something to me.
and i’m not listening.
you’re writing all of your stories
and i’m not reading.
you’re holding my hand
but i don’t feel a thing
and maybe, this is too much.
for you.
you think you’re nothing but worthless
i have it in me to agree
you think i’m a goddess
i’d burn down my altar
if i could find a match.
and you say, you say “what’s it gonna take?”
and i say, i say “put some passion behind the love we make.”
but maybe, this is too much.
for you.
this might be love
but i can rise above that
and it might be time for a solo
you can’t play your instrument
and you strum so hard.
you’re breaking the strings
while you clumsily break me
down, maybe, this is too much.
for you.
you call me queen of your world
i say thanks, but i’d just fall for the page boy
you want so much from me
and deep down you know i’m nothing
but trouble and yet you still wait patiently
you see something beautiful in my eyes
funny i only see scorn
and maybe, this is too much.
for you.
you say hello
i look down at the floor:
keep walking.
because i’m too hot to handle
and i squirm too much to hold
and i’m barely breathing
because you’re smothering me.
i think you need a new hobby.
because maybe, this is too much.
for you.